Hard to Find
by anneikenskywalker
Summary: One year after their reunion/showdown (as seen in XDOFP-SPOILERS!) Erik finds himself drawn to visit Charles while on business in New York. After the events of the past decade, Erik finds himself needing closure...but is that really ALL he needs? And will Charles reciprocate? CHERIK/partial musicfic using "Hard to Find" by the Nationals.
1. Chapter 1

_**((Hey all. So I am a big Xmen fan and thought I would try my hand at this. It's a bit of a Cherik story that came to mind after hearing the song, "Hard to Find" by the Nationals. It's just a sketch that I'm hoping will blossom into a more in-depth relationship story, but we'll see. I incorporated the song lyrics into the flashbacks, almost like background music since that is how I envisioned it. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but bear with me. Enjoy and hopefully there will be more Cherik to come.))**_

_**New York, 1974**_

Erik Lensherr grasped the steering wheel of the blue Chevy Impala hard as he looked through the windshield onto the rain-soaked highway.

He had landed in New York City just hours before, but the second the plane wheels hit the ground he felt an instant aching in his heart and he knew why.

He tried to dull the pain with a drink at the airport bar, then another at his hotel after he settled in.

But, after laying on the bed in his suite for what felt like an eternity just staring at the ceiling fan, he found that he couldn't take it anymore and launched himself off the mattress and raced to the hotel lobby, asking the concierge at the front desk where he could rent a car at 9:30pm.

Erik now sighed as he adjusted his rear view mirror and glanced behind him at the dark, desolate road, remembering how he had promised Raven six months before that he would let it go…

That for their own safety and for Charles' and all that they were both trying to build, that he wouldn't try to contact his former friend and ally…

That he would keep his distance and stay away.

But it hadn't been easy.

In fact, it had been heart wrenching and damn near impossible.

Erik rolled his neck on his shoulders and gripped the steering wheel tighter as looked forward again and remembered that day he and Charles parted ways in Cuba.

It seemed so long ago now—centuries—when in reality it has only been about a decade.

Erik remembered how, for himself, their parting had been with the caveat –a hope, really—in Erik's heart at least, that they would one day meet again as friends and that Charles would forgive him and that he would be able to make his friend see reason.

That someday, _somehow_ Charles would drop his pacifist act and join him and Raven in the true mutant cause.

But, that hope—that caveat—had never come to pass as Erik had been imprisoned beneath the Pentagon for many of the years after the incident in Cuba and couldn't make contact with Charles even if he had wanted to.

And _God,_ did he want to.

And then, after so long apart…they were brought together a year ago, but it had been a meeting of bitter minds, angry hearts and mutilated souls.

There was no forgiveness, no brotherhood…

And it nearly killed Erik, for he had always imagined their reunion differently.

After finding each other and forming the bond they had, it had felt almost like losing an arm or leg to seemingly be so severed from Charles' life and denied his friendship again.

The pain had been incredible when it happened and, like all wounds, a scar had now begun to form over the damaged flesh, new and pink.

But every once in a while, Erik would feel an ache in the part of his soul Charles had once occupied, like Charles was trying to reach out to him, though it was impossible to think that he would.

Sometimes, he thought he had even heard Charles' voice…

It was almost like when people who lose appendages imagine that they have their missing limb back—so vivid and real is the hallucination that they think they can function like they did before.

But, sadly it's all an illusion to compensate for the tremendous loss they are trying to cope with.

"Phantom Limb Syndrome" they call it and Erik often wondered if there was such a thing as "Phantom Friend Syndrome".

But, in his heart, Erik knew that they were more than just friends…

They were brothers…or _had been_ brothers.

And if you asked him to reveal the darkest nature of his heart and his desires, he would say that they were more than that…

That he and Charles Xavier were soul mates, pulled together by more than just friendship and brotherhood.

At least for Erik, that hadn't been the only attraction...

Erik bit his lip as he flipped on the car's turn signal and slowly turned off onto the winding access road through the woods that led to a large, Gothic style iron gate with the sign, XAVIER'S SCHOOL FOR THE GIFTED, on the stone post just to the left of the entrance.

Erik brought the car to a stop and turned off the headlights before slowly raising his hands and, as quietly as he could, unlocked the gate latch and pushed the iron rod doors open to clear a path for his entry.

He then smirked as he put the car in gear and drove down the gravel drive toward the mansion, the gates swinging closed behind him when the car had passed through.

As he looked around the grounds, he saw that even in the dark, everything pretty much looked the same.

It was nice to know that some things never change…

Erik navigated the car down the access road and around the other side of pool house on the east side of the property, pulling in behind the old limestone building, parking in the back lot that faced over the top of the hill toward the main house.

All seemed quite, he observed, as he leaned back in the leather seat and took in the sight of the mansion that had been, not just his residence for almost six months, but his home.

Charles had seen to that.

Erik suddenly took in a shallow breath when he saw the lights in the upstairs floor of the five story mansion flicker on.

_**I can see the glowing lights,**_

_**I can see them every night…**_

His heart immediately ached as he wished he was inside those stone walls again with his friend—having dinner with him, laughing with him, listening to him lecture and guide the children, playing their regular evening chess game…And, all the time, the telepath's gaze never leaving his.

_**They're really not that far away,**_

_**I could be there in a day…**_

Charles Xavier could look into his heart and soul with those eyes and reach a depth few could inside him.

He had known that the second he had first looked in to the Charles' eyes.

_God_, those beautiful blue eyes…

Erik suddenly found himself closing his own eyes to remember the feeling and the memories instantly filled his mind of every time it had happened…

_**Wonder if you live there still,**_

Meeting for the first time as they tread water in the Atlantic after Charles had saved him from drowning…

"You're not alone…Erik, you're _not alone_."

_**But, kind of think you always will…**_

Outside the CIA building when Charles stopped him from leaving, "What do you know about me?"

The telepath immediately responded without missing a beat or averting his eyes when the metal bender turned back to face him, "Everything."

_**If I tried you'd probably be hard to find…**_

Then he gave him that warm smile before turning on his heel and walking back into the building like he knew that Erik wouldn't leave before Erik knew himself.

_**What I feel now about you then,**_

That morning in the CIA suit's office, when he surprised Charles by showing up…

How his eyes softened when he said, "Erik, you decided to stay."

_**Well, I'm just glad I can explain…**_

The look they shared as they stood outside this very mansion—their new headquarters— Hank's voice in the background, "This is yours?"

"No," Charles responded, his eyes never leaving Erik's, "It's _ours_…"

_**You were beautiful and close and young, **_

The laughs and gazes they shared on their recruiting trips and during the classes they held to help their new students come into their own.

_**In those ways we were the same…**_

The nights over the chess board as they contemplated moves and gauged eachother's reactions…

_**There's a lot that I've not forgotten,**_

His tear- filled eyes meeting Charles' as the telepath brought forward memories of a Hanukkah that took place many years before with his parents…

"There is so much more to you than you know—not just pain and anger…there is good, too, I felt it."

_**Though I've let go of other things,**_

Looking down into Charles' eyes, watering and filled with pain, as he held his friend in his arms on the beach moments after he was shot…

"She didn't do this, Erik…" he has said, "_You did_."

_**If I tried, they'd probably be hard to find…**_

Erik opened his eyes suddenly and gasped as the emotion of the memories caught him suddenly off guard and soon, he couldn't control the rush of images before his waking eyes…

They were images of more recent events and times when those eyes had met again after so many years apart.

_**I don't know why we had to lose,**_

The elevator doors opening at the Pentagon as Charles and Erik came face to face after nearly a decade…

"Charles?" he had mused, standing there in his prison jumper and narrowing his eyes in surprise…

And Charles responded by punching him across the jaw.

_**The ones who took so little space…**_

"Believe me," Charles responded, his voice tinged with anger when Erik had gotten back to his feet, their eyes meeting again instantly, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be."

_**We're still waiting for the years,**_

"You took the things that meant the most to me…" the telepath's voice rang in his ears and Charles' angry and emotional eyes met his on the plane to Washington D.C.

"Well, then maybe you should have fought harder for them," was his cold-hearted reply, stunned and hurt by his former friend's words.

_**To cover what we can't erase…**_

"If you want a fight, Erik, I will give you a _fight_!" Charles cried suddenly as he lurched forward from his chair, his eyes never leaving the metal benders as he grabbed hold of Erik, "You abandoned me! You took her away and you _abandoned me_!"

_**I'm not holding out for you,**_

Charles stepping between him and Raven, facing down the barrel of Erik's gun, shock and fear in his eyes that his friend would commit such an atrocity as trying to harm another mutant…

Let alone_ his sister_.

_**But I'm still watching for the signs…**_

Coming face to face on the White House lawn when Charles stood by and willingly let Erik leave so that he wouldn't fall into the hands of the authorities…

"If you let them have me, I'm as good as dead…"

"I know."

_**If I tried, you'd probably be hard to find…**_

Suddenly, Erik felt his eyes flutter and his body lurch forward as if invisible arms that had been around him and released their hold…

Though he had been awake the whole time, he shook his head and looked around as if waking from a dream, confused and immediately trying to get his bearings through blurry eyes.

It was only when he felt a warm, familiar sensation in the back of his mind, that he stopped and took in a sharp breath, and it finally occurred to him what had transpired.

"Charles…" Erik whispered his friend's name like a prayer on the tip of his tongue and he smiled in a mixture of sadness and relief.

The telepath must have sensed his arrival somehow and taken control of his mind, flashing the more recent and painful memories through it, probably as a smug reply to Erik's earlier memories that may have been projected toward him.

Keeping this is mind, Erik responded mentally so that Charles could hear him.

"_Thanks for the heartfelt welcome," _he internalized in a sarcastic tone, _"How are you old friend?"_

It wasn't long before he heard Charles' reply in the back of his mind,_ "We aren't friends and haven't been for some time, Erik. I let you walk away—I gave you a 'Get out of Jail' free card with the intention of never seeing you again. What could have possibly possessed you to come here?"_

"_I don't know," _Erik responded mentally, rubbing his hands on his pant legs nervously—his hands were suddenly sweating, "_I was in New York on business and just…well, I just found myself driving here. I don't know what came over me. I had promised Raven and myself that I would stay away, but…" _

There was a moment of silence before Erik heard the telepath's response.

"_I see…" _was all Charles could manage to say, his tone making him sound conflicted

Erik flared his nostrils and rubbed his broad chin with his right hand before quickly reaching forward to turn the ignition key and start the car.

"This was a very bad idea…" Erik said aloud softly, his voice filled with guilt and shame then internalized the words to Charles_, "I'm sorry. You're right. I'll just go…" _

Suddenly, there was a tap on the glass at the driver's side window and Erik jumped, his hand released the key as he dove toward the passenger side seat.

"_Jesus!"_ he cried, indignantly looking over his shoulder to the face of Charles Xavier that now appeared there behind the glass.

Erik closed his eyes and clutched his chest for a moment—he was certain, despite his youth and physical shape, that he had had a cardiac episode—then slowly slid back over and rolled down the window.

"Charles…_What the Hell?!"_ Erik admonished with a breathless gasp and he was certain the smirk that now spread across the telepath's face was because all the blood had certainly drained from his face.

Suddenly, their eyes met and Erik felt an electric current jolt through is very heart and soul…

It wasn't painful.

It was warm and familiar, somehow.

A lot had changed about each of them in that year since their showdown in Washington D.C.

Erik noted that physically, Charles himself looked different. His hair had been cut short again and he now wore one of his famous cardigan sweaters with a pair of gray trousers as he sat in his steel wheelchair.

And by their internal conversation tonight, it was clear that he had gotten his telepathic abilities straightened back out and operational.

However, with all these external changes, Erik found himself glad that their connection was still there.

That like the mansion that had once been their home, _that_ hadn't changed.

And Erik could see that Charles felt it too.

Charles' smirk soon faded as he brought his hands to the sides of his wheelchair and rolled himself a few feet back from Impala, his eyes softening, but never leaving Erik's through the open window.

"Would you like to come inside?" he suddenly asked in a low voice, furrowing his brow seemingly in anticipation of rejection

There was a moment of silence before Erik straightened in his seat and, without unlocking their gaze, reached out for the ignition key again, turning off the car engine.

"Yes…" Erik found himself answering with an uncertain smile.


	2. Chapter 2

The front door to the mansion opened and Erik followed Charles inside, stepping courteously out of the way as Charles maneuvered his chair and turned back, shutting the door behind him with a soft thud.

"I can't believe it still looks the same…" Erik mused with a small smirk as he looked around the grand foyer of the Xavier mansion, "Outside _and_ in...after all this time."

There was a short silence as Erik continued to study his surroundings, waiting for Charles to join him.

It was in that moment, that he noticed something out of place.

"Where's the riff-raff?" he suddenly asked, looking down to Charles now rolling up to his left side

"You mean the children?" Charles asked, cocking an amused eyebrow

"Yes," Erik replied, "There's usually the familiar pitter-patter of little teenage mutant feet."

Charles chuckled and Erik's heart warmed at the sound. It had been a very long time since he had heard it.

"They're down the hall in the gallery," Charles replied, seeming to sober himself immediately,"It's movie night."

"Really?" Erik smirked, "So you_ finally_ took my advice, Charles about 'all work and no play'?"

Charles rolled his eyes as he left Erik's side and started rolling down the hallway that branched off to the left of the main staircase and Erik immediately followed.

"No," Charles answered, "It's an assignment. They are to view the film and explain in class tomorrow what themes in the movie mirror their everyday life experiences as mutants."

"I see," Erik replied as he watched Erik's chair slow and now come to a halt before a large metal door.

Charles then leaned forward, pressed the button to the right of the door and immediately it slid open to reveal an elevette big enough for no more than three people.

"Where are we going?" Erik asked bluntly, but obediently pulled the metal gate inside the door open for the telepath

"To my private quarters," Charles replied, eying his friend as he turned his chair in a circle and backed into the waiting elevator, "It will give us a quiet place to catch-up. No one will disturb us there and we won't risk any of the students seeing you."

"Ah…" Erik acknowledged, standing back again and playfully saluting Charles' cleverness as he waited for the professor to load himself, "Don't want anyone to know that your consorting with the enemy? How very _James Bond of you_, Charles…"

"Just shut your wise mouth and get in the lift, Lensherr," Charles replied, cocking his head and giving an amused glare

Erik immediately obeyed, climbing gracefully in next to the telepath before reaching forward and closing the folding metal gate behind them, then watched as the outside elevator door slid closed and the elevette gave a short jolt before wurring to life and beginning its accent.

A long silence fell between the two mutants as they patiently waited for the elevator to reach its destination, before Erik finally regarded Charles out of the corner of his eye and finally spoke.

"I love the 'Wizard of Oz'" he said almost in an absentminded tone as he put his hands in his pockets and looked up at the ceiling, "I remember my parents took me to see it before the war broke out. It was a real treat as movies cost quite a bit of money after the inflation…"

"My father took me to see it on a rare day off," Charles suddenly replied in a reverent tone and Erik gave a small smile, but kept his eyes forward to hide his expression from the telepath, "_God, _the flying monkeys gave me nightmares for weeks, though…"

Erik scoffed, then said, "Do you know what the most bogus line in all of Hollywood is, Charles? Ironically it's _from_ the 'Wizard of Oz'."

"What?" Charles asked curiously, turning slowly to look up at the metal bender

"'There's no place like home'…" Erik recited, his face turning a little sad as he now turned and met Charles' gaze as the elevator dinged and they both knew that they had arrived at their destination.

"An interesting observation…" Charles replied, quirking an eyebrow as turned back ahead to watch elevator door slide open and Erik step forward to pull back the metal gate, "Why would you say that?"

"Because home is a desolate place, full of people that care for you, but don't accept the dreamer that you are," Erik replied, pushing the gate into its rightful slot, then leaning on the side of the elevator to face Charles, "It's black and white and full of dangers like old hags on bicycles and tornadoes—and Oz, well, Oz is—"

"Technicolor…" Charles finished, a small smile crossing his face as he rolled past the metal bender and out of the elevator.

"Yes," Erik said, following Charles off of the elevator and down the short, dimly lit corridor before them, "Exactly. It's colorful and full of hope and filled with so many interesting and diverse people, people that you had _no idea_ existed when you were younger…Tin men and Scarecrows and lions…"

"And those _God awful_ flying monkeys!" Charles groaned as he rolled to a stop in front of a pair of glass-pained French doors, "Everyone would have been better off without those!"

"And you have wonderful adventures," Erik continued with a slight chuckle at Charles' response, watching as the telepath now pushed open one of the doors and rolled inside, turning on the light as he went, "And, in the end, you help each other realize that everything you want to be…you already _are._"

Erik now paused and watched as Charles suddenly turned in a circle in the center of the room to face him, his face softening as he took in his friends' words.

"Is that what _you_ realized, Erik?" he suddenly found himself asking, "When you once lived here with me?"

Erik took in Charles' words for a moment, then bit his lip before straightening to his full height before answering, "Yes. Even after everything that happened...after all we have been through, if I was to sum it all up into one answer to that most basic question. I would say...'yes'."

Charles eyes softened as he studied the metal bender, unsure of what to say to this revelation.

But, before he could find the words, Erik continued, "And there is another thing your students should realize when watching the movie. It is what the author Thomas Wolfe once said, 'You can't go home again…' You see, what they left behind when they came here—their homes, their families, the society that rejected them and that forced them to hide in plain sight—that was Kansas…and _this_," he said, holding up a hand and gesturing toward the mansion around them, "This home you created for them…_this_ is Oz, Charles."

"Those are very powerful words, Erik...'You can't go home again'…" Charles said in a gentle tone, eying his former friend, his mind still adjusting to what Erik had spoken of previously,"You sound like you know better than anyone how true those words really are."

Erik nodded with a sad smile, the meaning behind Charles' words not lost on him.

"It's true. I've lost _two_ homes in my lifetime..." the metal bender said softly, "Both places were _very_ different from the other, but both were full memories and friends and family I had to leave behind-"

"_Two homes_?" Charles replied in a curious tone

"Yes," Erik said, his eyes softening, "Germany and..._here_. You see, Germany was my Kansas and _this_...You and Raven and this house...this was my Oz, too, once, Charles."

Charles inhaled sharply at Erik's words, then turned his chair quickly and made his way toward the other side of the room and the waiting full service bar in the corner near the fireplace.

"I don't know about you, but I need a drink," he said, closing his eyes in pain when he knew his back was turned to Erik


	3. Chapter 3

Suddenly sensing the conflict that now erupted in Charles' soul at his words, Erik stepped forward, passing the telepath and moving ahead of him toward the mahogany bar.

"Here, allow me…" he said in a low voice as he made quick pace and rounded himself behind the bar before Charles even rolled up to it.

The telepath opened his mouth to speak, but to his surprise, Erik took the words right out of it when he asked, "Your usual? Scotch neat?"

"Yes…" Charles nodded with a confused smirk as his chair stopped a few feet from the bar, "You... remember that?"

"I remember _everything_…" Erik immediately replied, looking up and meeting Charles's eyes for a brief moment, his breath suddenly hitching when he felt the palpable connection ignite between them again. He then quickly looked away as he shrugged off his brown leather jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair, rolling up his shirt sleeves as he began rummaging through the liquor stock under the overhang and trying desperately to come up with a way to brush off what he just said.

Finally, he did.

"_And_ it's the simplest drink known to man and takes barely any effort to make, Charles, so of course I'd remember it," he continued, nonchalantly, grabbing a bottle of single malt scotch and after a moment's thought, bent down to retrieve a tumbler from the cabinet under the counter.

When it was placed gently next to scotch, he picked up the bottle and unscrewed the lid.

"I'm glad to see that you got the school back up and running…" Erik said, pouring the scotch into the glass

"Truth be told, I missed it. I never really knew how much until it was gone…and then when those first students walked through the doors six months ago…" Charles smiled to himself, the memory fresh in his mind, "But, it was really a _joint_ effort. I can't take all the credit. It wouldn't have been possible without Hank, especially since I'm still trying to get myself back to normal—"

"Are you unwell?" Erik immediately interjected, setting the bottle down on the counter harder than he meant to as he looked up again

Charles startled at the noise, but kept a steady gaze on the metal bender as their eyes locked, seemingly surprised by Erik's reaction.

"No…it's just that the injections I had been taking so that I could walk…they were basically a medicinally enhanced form of amphetamines…." Charles said, trailing off, unsure how to put into words what he was trying to say.

Truthfully, he was an addict.

The stabilizers he had been for years to block the voices and give him the use of his legs had reeked havoc on his mind and body, so much so that when he gave up the injections and returned to his wheelchair and allowed his powers to come back, he found that he couldn't function properly-there were days when he would go without sleeping and it was hard for him to eat or even focus on his work.

It was something he was _still_ struggling with everyday.

"So are you saying that you've been 'Turning on', Charles?" Erik asked with a raised eyebrow before leaning down again to reach under the bar, this time opening a chest cooler and retrieving a beer from under the fresh ice.

He couldn't help but give a small smile when he found that Charles still kept his favorite brand.

"I suppose you could say that I have," Charles replied seriously, "If the withdrawal side effects that I've been experiencing are any indication—"

Erik closed his eyes in shame at Charles words, then closed the cooler and rose up again, placing the bottle of beer on the counter next to the glass of scotch.

"I'm _sorry_…" Erik lamented, "I shouldn't have said that—"

"It's alright," Charles instantly replied with an empathetic smile, raising a stern hand to silence the metal bender, "Truly. Let's forget it."

To this Erik, gave a nod, not wanting to make Charles more uncomfortable by offering more platitudes or continuing the subject on which he didn't seem to want to expand further.

"Bottle opener?" Erik inquired, shifting his gaze and trying to find something else to talk about

"In the third drawer on the left…" Charles pointed out, then turned and exhaled a breath as he rolled back toward the fire now glowing in the fireplace.

Erik watched him move past out of the corner of his eye, then looked down to the left side of the bar and pulled open the third drawer, retrieving the bottle opener before shutting it again.

"How is Raven?" Charles suddenly asked as he came face to face with the flames in the fire

Erik sighed as he popped off the top of his beer then tossed the opener on the counter and crushed the metal top to bits in the palm of his hand in frustration.

Well, that was quick.

Erik was sure that Charles would have danced around the subject of his sister for at least another uncomfortable hour.

But, the metal bender was all for ripping off the band aid in one fail swoop instead of peeling it of slowly and watching each hair pull up with the adhesive. Yep...Better to just get it over with.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, throwing the metal dust into the air, then picking up the drinks in his hands, walked over toward Charles, "She recently disappeared again on one of her little crusades. She calls in every now and again, but otherwise, she prefers to be and work alone."

"How ironic…" Charles scoffed, still looking into the flames, "That the one person that you wanted to go with you, turns out to be the one person that you can't seem to _keep_ with you."

"_She_ wasn't the person I wanted to go with me…" Eric quickly retorted, suddenly appearing in front of Charles, breaking his concentration and bringing the telepath's eyes toward him as he now held the scotch out to him and immediately tried to recover himself, "Besides, I think she isolates herself because she misses you. Leaving you upset her more than you could ever know—especially after she found out what really happened to you on the beach in Cuba."

Charles narrowed his brow as he absorbed the metal bender's words, then tentatively reached out and took his drink, his eyes suddenly shifting down to Erik's right wrist above where he held the tumbler.

It looked like a tattoo –a very strong, black **X **that was engraved in black on Erik's forearm.

Charles would most likely never seen it had Erik's shirt sleeve not been rolled up.

The telepath tried to ignore the clenching feeling in his heart and the fire that ignited in his soul at the thought that the "X" might have something to do with him and their past, and instead took in an unsteady breath as he nodded his appreciation to the metal bender for his drink, then took the tumbler in hand then brought it up toward his lips.

"To memories…past _and_ present…good _and_ bad..." Erik suddenly said raising his beer bottle in a small toast, causing Charles to pause and pull the drink back before he could actually take a sip, "And going another successful year without killing one another. I have a feeling there will be many more to come."

"Cheers," Charles smirked as he held out his glass and clinked it softly with Erik's beer bottle before the two men took their first respective drink, eyeing each other as they did.

Charles downed his tumbler in one gulp, keeping his eyes locked with Erik as he lowered his glass and the metal bender pulled the bottle from his lips after another thoughtful sip.

"Another?" Erik asked, quirking an eyebrow and motioning toward Charles' empty glass

"God, yes…" Charles sighed and held out the glass for Erik to take, which he did, taking another swig of his beer as he walked past Charles back to the bar.

After a few moments of silence, Charles closed his eyes and decided to speak up, against his better judgement, about what he had seen on Erik's arm.

If he was reading more into it than there was...fine.

But, if there was even the slightest chance that it had something to do with the telepath or their past friendship or...well, anything they had shared together, he was willing to take it.

Even after all that had happened over the past ten years...

All the rights and wrongs...

All the fights and confrontations...

All the times when they had abandoned each other, turned on each other and pushed each other away...

If there was even the _slightest_ hope that Erik was still in there-inside that "Magneto" persona, Charles was going to take it.

He had to.

He owed it to himself and he owed it to Erik Lensherr...

The _real_ Erik Lensherr.

With this in mind, Charles now slowly turned his wheelchair back to face the bar, watching as Erik screwed off the top of the scotch bottle again and poured Charles' drink.

"Erik…" Charles started, unsure if he really should bring up what he was about to, but his heart encouraged him, though his mind screamed 'No! Stop!'

"Mhmm?…" Erik answered concentrating on his drink pouring then screwing the lid back on

"The tattoo on your right forearm…" Charles said, "That one is not from a Nazi Internment Camp."

Erik stopped for a moment and closed his eyes as he replaced the bottle of scotch onto the counter and took a swig from his beer on the top of the bar before he replied, "No, Charles, it's not. I got it not long after I was released from prison and it has much happier memories attached to it that the tattoo on my left arm."

"It's a rather simple design," Charles observed and Erik scoffed with a smirk as he picked up the tumbler with Charles' re-freshened drink and crossed the room with it in one hand and his beer in the other.

"Yes," Erik agreed, looking down to it with a small smile as he handed Charles his drink with that arm, then looked up to meet the telepath's eyes, "To represent a very _simple_ idea—a _simple_ truth—the only thing that has had true meaning in my life. A truth I still live by."

"And that is?" Charles prompted as he gently took the drink from Erik's hand

"Why don't you read my mind and find out?" Erik challenged good naturedly, taking another swig from his beer bottle, his steel blue eyes dancing

Charles opened his mouth to answer, then hesitated.

"Oh, _come on_, Charles!" Erik urged, cocking his head, "You made the promise not to read or control my mind a decade ago and you've done _both_ within the past year—so you've already broken that promise. Now, I don't have my helmet…there is no need to stand on ceremony…" he then gracefully bend down on one knee, setting his beer bottle on the floor next to him as he came eye level with the telepath and again urged in a softer tone, "Do it. Please…I want you to see."

Charles studied him for a moment, then took a sip from his tumbler and set it down in his lap as he raised his right hand to his temple and focused his gaze on Erik, allowing his eyes to flutter shut.

Suddenly, Erik felt a presence at the back of his mind and closed his own eyes as well, willing the memory he wanted Charles to see to come forward.

It was the day that they stood out on the back veranda of the very mansion they were now in.

The day that Charles had accessed and brought forth the memory of Erik with his mother on Hanukkah many years earlier…

Then it flashed to Charles standing before Erik with tear stained eyes and Charles voice echoing in Erik's mind, _"I believe that true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity."_

Then with a jolt, Erik felt Charles' mind separate from his and he opened his eyes to behold Charles sitting before him.

And like his memory from ten years earlier, the telepath now had tears in his eyes as he looked down again to the **X **emblazoned on Erik's forearm and gave a small, sad, smile.


	4. Chapter 4

_**((Be patient, y'all and hold on to your butts...this is gonna be a slow burn...))**_

"Did you ever find it?" Charles suddenly asked in a low voice, his eyes still resting on the tattoo, a small flicker of hope in his bright blue eyes, causing a lump to form in Erik's throat, "That point between 'rage and serenity'?"

Erik smirked sadly, then lowered his eyes and shook his head, "No. Not yet."

Then he paused, listening to Charles exhale a semi-disappointed breath before continuing

"But you should know something, Charles," the metal bender said, lifting his eyes to once again meet the telepath's, "I _am_ still trying…and with _or_ without the helmet, you are always in here…" he emphasized, lifting the fingertips of his right hand to tap his temple, then lowered the same hand to rest on his chest over his heart, "_And_ _in here_…"

Charles face crumbled slightly at the sentimentality of his former friend and ally's words, but held his composure as he looked down into the tumbler of scotch still sitting on his knee.

"_Always…_" Erik reiterated, narrowing his eyes and holding out his right forearm again to show Charles the **X** tattoo, willing the telepaths eyes to meet his once more, "And _this_…well, this is just an outside reminder of the mark you left on the inside. _You_ changed my life, Charles. You showed me the first steps to unlocking the true potential of my power—"

"Yes…but, what I _didn't r_ealize was that your power was just as dangerous, just as complicated and just as extraordinary as the man who wields it." Charles interjected, eying the metal bender as he slowly raised his glass to his lips and took another drink.

A pained look crossed Erik's face at Charles words before he recovered himself and continued, "Look, Charles, I know that we haven't always agreed on ideologies…especially, where humans and mutants are concerned…"

"_No, _we haven't," Charles scoffed into his glass as he took another successive drink

"And I know that you think that I'm a monster—_I am_—Shaw saw to that _many_ years ago," Erik continued, pretending to not hear Charles' earlier remark, "And I can't change who I am—what I was molded into by years of torture and anger and bitterness…I can't take that back because it's part of me now and unfortunately the part of me that seems to show through more than the good you once claimed to see a glimmer of. _But_, I want you to know something…."

"And what is that?" Charles asked, lowering glass to rest on the arm of his wheelchair and cocking his head nonchalantly as if he didn't trust a word that came out of the metal bender's mouth, but on the inside his heart and mind did and was desperate to hear what he had to say.

Erik paused for a moment, then spoke the words.

"That I meant what I said when I told you on the beach that I wanted you by my side—that we were brothers."

Charles eyes immediately widened in shock at the metal bender's words and Erik immediately continued before the telepath could protest.

"Brothers fight and they disagree and they don't always forgive and forget past wrongs, but, in the end, they are _still _brothers and neither time, nor distance, nor even different ideologies could _ever _change that. I don't know anything about brothers, really, I never actually had a brother..."

"Neither did I," Charles replied, his eyes dazed

Erik gave an unsure smirk, "So we're in the same boat, then...which means we can figure this out together-day by day and moment by moment. Just know that you are my brother, Charles, and no matter how much you resent me or keep your distance or even if you decide to continue to hate me and never forgive me for what I did to you,_ I_ will _never _stop caring about you…and, most importantly, I will never forget what you did for me…I could never thank you…"

Erik suddenly trailed off, seemingly overwhelmed by the words that just came tumbling out of his mouth as he pulled his eyes away from Charles' and took in a sharp breath.

"Well, it seems even monsters have a heart…" he finished in a low voice as he reached for his beer and moved to stand up, "Even if they don't always know _exactly_ how to use it."

But suddenly, he felt Charles' hand on his arm.

Erik stopped immediately and lowered himself back to his knees before Charles, slowly setting the bottle back down on the hardwood floor.

"Erik…" the telepath said softly as he slowly retracted his arm as they came face to face once more, "I'm sorry. I don't hate you…" suddenly he grimaced as he closed his eyes, "I hate myself."

"_What?_" Erik whispered, narrowing his eyes in disbelief, "No…How could you? _why_?"

"Because I saw the monster inside of you ten years ago when I first met you—bitter and angry and oppressed—but, caged. I wanted to help you learn to control it—to help you develop your ability in the hope that the mental balance and control it offered would spark the good that I knew still existed deep inside of you the moment I first looked inside that beautiful mind of yours. But... I'm afraid, in the end, all I really did was just offer it a key and allow it to escape—"

"Charles…" Erik started in a sympathetic voice, but Charles placated him by putting a hand on his shoulder

"My friend," he said warmly, taking the metal bender by surprise, "You are who you are…every moment in your life—every inch of pain and suffering you experienced—made you who you are today and I'm _thankfu_l for that, Erik... as bitter of a pill as it is to swallow, sometimes…I _am_ thankful. And even if I don't always understand you or trust you and even if I have to fight you for the rest of my life until we are both too old to remember what we are really fighting _for_ or _about_…"

Erik smirked at this and Charles squeezed his should in encouragement before he continued,

"Just remember that you may be a 'monster', but you are _my_ monster..._my _friend…_my _brother."

A moment of silence fell between them and they stared intently at each other, before Charles moved his hand from Erik's shoulder to the back of the metal benders neck and whispered under his breath, "Come here…" before unexpectedly pulling Erik into an embrace.

Erik exhaled deeply as he felt Charles' arms engulf him, unsure how to react for few seconds before finally bringing his own arms around the telepath's shoulders and closing his eyes, allowing himself to rest his chin in the crook between the telepath's neck and shoulder and to relish in the familiar contact.

After a few more seconds, Charles released him and Erik pulled back, wiping away tears that had suddenly formed under his eyes as Charles cleared his throat and reached over to the arm of his wheelchair and picked up his scotch, taking another drink.

"Alright, then…" he said when he lowered his glass again and cocked an eyebrow, trying to find something to say to describe what had just transpired as he watched Erik grab his own beer bottle and rise to his feet, "Good…therapeutic…"

"But...just a _little_ awkward?" Erik finished for the telepath in a sarcastic tone, trying to hide how touching Charles has suddenly made him feel.

Well, if he could say it out loud, he would probably say that his entire body and soul were on fire.

"Yes...far too sentimental," Charles replied, playing along as they both tried to mask their true feelings about sharing such an intimate moment, "So, heart in the right place…but never again?"

"Cheers," Erik prompted with a small smile and they raised their glasses to each other before taking a drink.

"Well," Charles quipped, smacking his lips as he lowered his glass to his lap, "Now we can go through life like proper friend/enemies without all that awkward baggage. We've hugged it out and now we can go our separate ways and go back to our normal, healthy resentment..."

"Charles," Erik suddenly said, after a moment's thought, lowering his own bottle from his lips as he felt his heart beat wildly at the prospect of now being parted with the telepath, "If that is how you feel, we should probably get something _else_ out of the way..."

"What is that?" Charles asked, twirling his glass on his knee before looking up to meet Erik's gaze and narrowing it in curiosity as the metal bender sighed before kneeling down before him again.

"_This…_" Erik said softly before taking in a deep breath and leaning forward to capture the telepath's lips.


	5. Chapter 5

Erik felt Charles immediately tense behind the kiss, seemingly surprised by the metal bender's action, but did not pull away.

Their lips tangled for a few moments before Erik realized that Charles was kissing him back…

With gusto.

Erik smiled against the telepath's lips and moved his hand to gently rest behind Charles neck to deepen the kiss, but suddenly felt a stinging sensation as Charles hastily released his lips from the metal bender's, gasping as he leaned back in his chair with his ocean blue eyes desperately searching Erik's.

Erik inhaled sharply as he pulled his right hand back from Charles and brought it to his mouth, touching his bottom lip when he realized that he was bleeding.

In their passion, Charles had bit him.

Well, it was good to know that perhaps his feelings were being reciprocated…

"I'm sorry," Erik breathed after a moment, casting his eyes down, unsure what to say.

What if Charles hadn't pulled back just because he had bit him? What if it was just a side effect of the telepath realizing that what he was doing with Erik was wrong—something that he didn't want?

So the metal bender hastily added, "I shouldn't have—"

"No," Charles interjected, suddenly seeming to regain his senses as he sat forward again, his eyes intense, "I—I just—I've _never…_ " then he narrowed them in concern, "I bit you."

"I'll live," Erik replied with a smirk as he lowered his hand and beheld the few drops of the blood in his palm, "It's just a flesh wound."

There were a few moments of tense silence where in Charles focused his gaze intently on Erik as the metal bender folded his upper lip over the lower to stop the bleeding and placed both hands on the arms of Charles' wheelchair before bringing his own eyes up to meet the telepaths.

Finally, Charles swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke up.

"You…kissed me," the telepath finally said, his eyes softening

"I did," Erik answered back truthfully and without remorse, leaning a little closer to Charles, his grip on the wheelchair arms tightening as he waited for Charles to speak again—act—_anything…_

This was one moment when he wished that _he_ could read minds.

What he wouldn't give to read Charles' at this very moment...

"You don't seem surprised by your actions…" Charles breathed out again, raising an eyebrow, "Exactly how long have you been waiting to do that?"

"A very long time," Erik replied, releasing his bottom lip and leaning even closer, causing Charles' breath to hitch

"_How_ _long_?" Charles asked, narrowing his eyes as he leaned back a little, his eyes not showing fear or repulsion at Erik's continued proximity, but…

Lust?

Temptation?

Erik could see that Charles seemed unsure how to react to what just happened and he was almost relieved.

Because he, too, was unsure…it all felt so new and undiluted.

"Read my mind and find out," Erik challenged in a low voice that sounded more seductive than he meant it to.

"I'd…well, I'd rather not at the moment," Charles replied instantly, his breath hitching again and Erik saw his blue irises dilate, "I just—in our heightened emotional states you could show me _other things_…"

"I see," Erik said, a small smile crossing his face as he realized what Charles meant and his eyes softened as he inched a little closer to the telepath, "Would you prefer if I just told you?"

"Yes," Charles sighed, somewhat relieved that he didn't have to fight Erik on the subject any longer

"Very well," Erik stated, straightening his posture, his grip on the wheelchair growing tighter as he continued to restrain himself, "Twelve years, four months and…twenty seven days."

Charles narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment, then smirked as he came up with a conclusion that instantly warmed him to his very soul, "That—that would make it the first day we met."

Erik nodded slowly, not taking his eyes off of Charles.

"I was alone," he said, seemingly mesmerized by the telepath's gaze and he soon found himself inches from Charles' face, "And then I heard your voice in the dark stillness of the ocean…"

"Erik…" Charles suddenly whispered, looking down to the metal bender's lips for a moment in thought before he finally gave in.

Erik gasped when he felt Charles lean forward and quickly take hold of his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss.

As their mouths collided, Erik felt his entire body tremble, sending shock waves from his head to his toes and through his arms…

Suddenly, there was metallic groaning noise and Erik immediately pulled back, gently releasing Charles' lips when he realized that in his passion he had instantly mangled the sides of the telepaths' wheelchair, nearly caving the wheels in.

"Bloody hell…" Charles whispered with widened eyes as he looked down to the sides of the wheelchair and took in the sight himself, then absent-mindedly taking hold of Erik's shaking hands as the metal bender removed them from the sides of the chair.

"I'm sorry…" Erik started, seemingly taken aback by his actions

"No—_it's alright_," Charles said in a low voice, trying to give a reassuring smile

Suddenly, there was a noise outside the door and Charles looked up quickly to see a figure stepping off of the elevator and approaching through the glass of the French doors.

He immediately released Erik's hands and cleared his throat as a signal for the metal bender to rise to his feet and act casual, which he did in haste, straightening his shirt and picking up his beer off of the floor as he went.

"Another?" Erik asked, clearing his throat as he nodded down to Charles

Charles flushed for a moment before he realized that Erik wasn't talking a kiss—he was signaling toward the empty scotch glass in Charles' lap.

Charles gave him a knowing and somewhat flirtatious look as he handed the tumbler up to him and Erik smirked, letting his fingers brush against Charles' for a moment longer than he should, as he took the glass.

Charles spent a few moments watching after the metal bender as he ran a hand through his hair and strode back toward the bar, before he turned toward the door again, breathing a sigh of relief when the figure arriving at the doors to his office turned out to be Hank.

_However_, Hank didn't seem as relieved when he beheld the scene of the two men through the glass as he reached for the door handle and turned it.

"What the Hell is _he_ doing here?" Hank immediately crowed as the door flew open and he entered the room, looking immediately from Charles to Erik

"Nice to see you too, Beastie," Erik acknowledged with a mock salute as he reached for the bottle of scotch behind the counter.

Hank immediately growled and took a step forward, but Charles instantly reached out and grabbed hold of his arm.

"Hank, wait!" Charles said in a stern voice, "Erik is here because I asked him here. This is a peaceful meeting—"

"_Really?_" Hank asked in a sarcastic tone as he whipped back to looked down to the telepath, quirking an eyebrow, "Then what happened to your wheelchair?"

"_Well…_" Charles said, taking in a steadying breath as he released Hank's arm and straightened, looking down to the mangled chair he was sitting in, "Things got a little _exciting_ there for a moment—"

"Exciting?" Hank scoffed, the anger in his voice immediately returning, "What you mean is that he tried to _kill you_!"

"Hank, everything is _fine_ now," Charles said, trying to placate the mutant who had become his right hand man, "Really. Erik arrived here tonight without my knowledge, yes...but, _I_ invited him inside. And he has shown no real aggression, I promise you—"

"Why are you _always_ defending him?" Hank shot back, turning to glare at Erik before turning back to face the professor once more, "When will you_ ever_ stop believing in his redemption?"

Charles' eyes softened as he cocked his head and met Hank's gaze straight on, "When I believe that there is _none_ left to be found…"

There was a moment of silence before Hank sighed in defeat and closed his eyes.

"Fine. If you want to do this, I can't stop you. Just—just don't forget what happened in Washington, alright?" he whispered, looking at Erik out of the corner of his eye, "He's different now…you can't trust him completely anymore. He's chosen his path and you've chosen yours."

Charles bit his lip as his own eyes moved to meet Erik's as the metal bender rounded the bar with Charles' refreshed drink in hand.

"I know," he said in a low voice

There was a moment's pause, then Hank straightened and continued, his tone of voice more casual

"I—I thought you might retiring for the night soon," he said, "And didn't know if you needed any assistance."

"No, I'm fine for now," Charles said, reaching out and taking the drink Erik now offered as he came to his side, "I'll buzz you if I need anything."

"Alright…" Hank said, giving a sad smile before turning to the metal bender, "And _you_…"

"Yes?" Erik asked, eying the still tall, skinny young man with the horn rimmed glasses up and down as he quirked an interested eyebrow

"You just... _behave_ yourself." Hank said in a stern voice, his eyes narrowing.

"I'll be fine, Hank," Charles assured the young scientist, interjecting, _"Really._ You can go back to the children, now."

Hank gave one last look to the professor, then nodded sheepishly.

"Good night, Professor," he said as he turned on his heel and made his way toward the French doors.

Then, suddenly, as if an epiphany just came over him, he stopped in the open doorway and turned back to face Erik and Charles with a look of curiosity

"A meeting, huh?" he scoffed, narrowing his eyes, "What about, may I ask?"

"Ah…_well_…" Charles stumbled, then looked down into his tumbler

"None of your business, Kid." Erik added, narrowing his eyes

"I see…" Hank replied, bemused, then after a moment asked another direct question, "And what exactly _were _you two doing before I came into the room?"

Both men answered simultaneously, but with completely different answers

"Discussing genetic mutation theory…" Charles offered without hesitation

"Kissing…" Erik said truthfully, before taking a swig of his beer like it was no big secret

Hank's eyes immediately widened and his jaw slacked slightly in surprise

Charles rolled his eyes and before quickly dropping his head into one of the palms of his hand with a smack

"I_ see_…" Hank repeated again, unsure what to say for a moment before he finally closed his mouth and a bewildered look suddenly spread across his face, replacing the shocked look from earlier as he turned slowly on his heel and exited the room with a wave over his shoulder.

"Well…I'll guess I'll leave you to it then," he called as the door closed behind him, "Good night!"

A few moments later, when the elevator bell could be heard in the distance, indicating that Hank had made it down the short hall and climbed on board out of sight, Charles immediately raised his head and reached out an arm to swat the metal bender.

"_Christ, Erik_!" he scolded with a small laugh

"What?!" Erik smirked, leaping out of the way of Charles' flying arm as he held tight to his beer to keep it from spilling

"You picked the perfect time to tell the truth for once!" Charles reprimanded

"Well_,"_ Erik replied as he knelt down next to Charles' wheelchair and met the telepath's gaze head on, "The way I saw it, it was a test."

"What?" Charles asked, bewildered

"A test," Erik reaffirmed as he took another swig from his bottle, "A test to see if I was trustworthy..if I would be honest about my intentions. He wanted to know what was really going on between us and I told him. I don't think he expected the answer he got, but at least now he knows I don't want to _kill you_."

"Maybe not," Charles replied, a small seductive smile crossing his lips, "But you're definitely going to be the death of me, Lensherr."

"And, let's hope in more ways than one," Erik whispered, leaning closer


	6. Chapter 6

Their eyes searched each other's faces for a few moment before Erik pulled his gaze away reluctantly and took in a breath before looking down to his watch on his left arm.

All he wanted to in that moment was kiss Charles again—kiss him and pull him out of the wheelchair and…

_No_, Erik told himself, _Don't be impatient. This is Charles. This the person you care about more than anyone else in this life. This deserves finesse and time..._

"It's getting late…" the metal bender said with a sigh as he took a swig of his beer and moved to stand, "And I have a meeting tomorrow morning that I cannot miss."

"Of course…" Charles replied in a low voice, closing his eyes as he sat back in his chair somewhat disappointed that the tension between them had been anti-climactic.

Then after a brief moment, Charles opened them and watched Erik chug down the rest of his beer as he walked stealthily over to the bar, suddenly realizing that the metal bender intended on leaving him.

It was then that he found himself speaking from a place deep inside—a resentful place that wished to challenge Erik…to make him stay even if it was only to pick a fight.

"Still lobbying for mutant political supporters?" Charles suddenly asked, "Let me guess—that's what you're doing in New York…Senator Buckley and Governor Rockefeller are next on the list?"

Erik smirked as he set his now empty beer bottle on the bar counter, then turned swiftly on his heel to face Charles for a moment, placing his right index finger on his nose before pointing it at the telepath in the old charades symbol for guessing the correct answer.

Then he winked as he glided over to the nearby chair where his jacket rested.

"And how are you paying for their support, may I ask?" Charles asked, turning himself in his wheelchair to get a better view of Erik shrugging on his leather jacket, "With the blood money you drained from the bank accounts of the former Nazis you killed over the last twenty years?"

Erik sighed as he placed his hands in his jacket pockets and turned to face Charles again, "Charles…please…_don't_…"

"_What?_" Charles replied, quirking an eyebrow, "State the truth? Are you not meeting Senator Buckley and Governor Rockefeller tomorrow? "

"I am," Erik nodded, his voice low

"And are you not going to line their pockets in the hopes that they might listen to your case on Mutant Rights?"

Erik's eyes narrowed, "You don't honestly think I would ever _keep_ the money earned on the backs of Jewish slaves—over my parent's dead bodies—for myself, do you?"

"So it's the truth, then," Charles stated matter-of-factly, straightening in his chair, "Why do you object to me speaking the truth?"

"Because you are only saying it so that you can pick a fight with me…" Erik replied, his eyes softening, "So that I'll stay."

Charles took in a breath and looked down, suddenly ashamed

Erik bit his lip and smirked as he now walked slowly over to Charles

"Charles," he said, his voice turning kinder, "I don't know where this leaves us…everything that has happened tonight… and I'm just as conflicted as I suspect you are and I sure as Hell don't know what will come next for us..." he paused for a moment, then continued, "But, believe me when I tell you, that if it was up to me, I would _never l_eave you again. But, regardless of your feelings on the matter, I have an appointment tomorrow and I need my beauty rest. In fact, I think that we both could benefit from some space right now…"

"Perhaps you're right," Charles replied in a soft voice, looking up

"_What_?" Erik suddenly chuckled, cocking his head as a small smile crossed his lips, "What was that? Did you—did you just say that I was _right_ about something? For like...the first time, _ever_?"

Charles scoffed good naturedly as he slowly nodded

"And just how did _those_ words taste coming out of your mouth?" Erik laughed

"Honestly?" Charles chuckled then continued, "Like vinegar."

Erik clutched his chest as he bend over and laughed harder and Charles soon joined him.

"Oh…" Erik finally sighed, a few moments later when their laughter finally dissipated, "Oh…Charles, you are truly one of a kind…I've missed you, my friend."

Then there was a pause as the two men studied each other for a moment before Charles spoke up.

"I'm glad you came, Erik," he said, "However, unexpected it was…"

"I am too," Erik replied, replacing his hands into his jacket pockets, "Thank you for inviting me inside. I know you didn't have to…It meant a lot."

A small, knowing smile crossed Charles' face before he took in a breath and looked down to his mangled wheelchair.

"Alright…well, I'll let you go on one condition, Lensherr…" he began, then smirked as he pointed to the mechanical mess below him, "You help me out of this bloody thing and to my room? I can't possibly go anywhere in this heap of rubble."

Erik rolled his eyes with a haughty chuckle as he nodded and stepped forward, "Of course. I'm sorry. I suppose I got a little carried away earlier…"

"I'll say…" Charles said as he looked up to the metal bender now standing before him, tall broad and strong, "Well, at least Hank built a spare."

"Again…sorry," Erik smirked, his eyes softening and he leaned down and gently wrapped his right arm around the telepath's back as Charles leaned forward, letting the metal bender make quick work of lifting him out of the mangled wheelchair with ease.

Charles instinctively wrapped his arms around Erik's neck, enjoying the feel of the soft brown leather against his skin, as Erik adjusted Charles in his arms, then turned and walked toward the French doors, giving a flick of his right hand under the telepath's legs to turn the doorknob and making a way for their exit into the outside hallway.

Another flick of his wrist and the elevator metal button outside the elevator was pushed and moments later, the elevator arrived, its doors opening.

Erik gave another swift flick of his wrist and made quick work of the gate.

Holding Charles close to his chest, feeling the telepath rest his head on his right shoulder, Erik stepped on board the elevator as the metal gate closed behind them, then the doors, and they started their descent to the first floor, where a short jaunt up the main staircase would lead them to Charles' bedroom that resided on the opposite end of the student dorms.

Their journey was silent, each man seeming to revel in the close proximity that the opportunity provided them, and when the elevator halted and the doors opened, Erik opened the gate again with his powers and stepped out into the foyer, looking around at the desolate hallway before rounding the pillars and carrying Charles up the grand staircase to the second floor.

Within moments, they had reached Charles' bedroom and Erik laid Charles gently on his canopy, half-tester bed before stepping back and watching as the telepath slid back against the pillows, adjusting himself so that he sat up to face the metal bender.

"Thank you," he said softly as he studied Erik, who now rounded the end of the bed and leaned against one of the posts there.

"Is there anything you need me to help you with before I go?" Erik asked, his eyes focused intently on Charles

Charles closed his eyes for a moment as a small surge of sexual desire welled up him at Erik's words...

But he did his best to suppress it.

However, by the look on Erik's face, he seemed to find that he wasn't alone in his feelings.

And Charles suddenly wished that he could break his promise not to read his friends mind and dive into Erik's subconscious thoughts on the matter.

"No," the telepath finally found himself choking out as he opened his eyes again and brought them to meet the metal bender's, "I'll buzz for Hank. He'll come up and assist me. I've delayed you long enough."

"Well…" Erik said, "I'll be going then."

"Alright," Charles acknowledged, "Good luck tomorrow. I hope all goes well…I _do_ mean that."

"Thank you, Charles," Erik replied as he released the post and stepped back from the bed and turned on his heel to go, but only made it a few steps before he stopped and turned back to face the telepath, "Would—would it be alright if came by for a visit again tomorrow night? Perhaps I could come after the children are a sleep and we could talk some more."

"I would like that," Charles smiled, genuinely pleased and surprised by Erik's suggestion, then added, "Perhaps we could pick up a game of chess as well...That is, if you have time and if you're up for it?"

Erik chuckled, then pointed an accusing finger at the telepath, "_Only_ if you promise to take it easy on me. I've been in an isolated prison for ten years, so it's been a while since I've played. Can I trust that you'll be the perfect gentleman? No cheating?"

"Can I trust that you'll actually come back tomorrow?" Charles retorted, raising an eyebrow as he adjusted himself higher on the pillows of his bed, his bright blue eyes suddenly softening so that Erik could see the double meaning behind them.

What the telepath was asking was 'Can I trust _you_'?

Erik's face fell for a moment as he became quiet and pensive.

"You know, many years ago, my father gave me a _very_ wise piece of advice regarding trust…" he said as he came to the other side of the bed and Charles followed him with his gaze, "Advice that I've carried with me always."

Suddenly, the metal bender stopped and leaned forward, placing his hands on the side of the mattress as his steel blue eyes met Charles' head on.

Their connection ignited and Charles focused intently on Erik's face and its proximity as the metal bender spoke in a low voice, his eyes smoldering.

"Trust the man…" he said in an almost seductive whisper, "But _never _trust the devil inside him."

Charles own eyes darkened with lust as he watched Erik lean forward a little and cast his eyes down to Charles' mouth, seeming to contemplate another kiss.

The two men hovered like that for a moment before Erik finally surged forward, but just before their lips could meet, he suddenly stopped.

And Charles could suddenly see how true Erik's words had been.

He could see a flash of the devil behind the metal bender's eyes.

Magneto's eyes...

But, not Erik Lensherr's.

"Good night, Charles…" Erik whispered, his breath hot against Charles' face and a small, devilish smile crossing his lips before he quickly pulled back and stood, straightening to his full height before reaching out for the door and exiting the room, not looking back.


	7. Chapter 7

Erik swiped his right hand across the bathroom mirror removing the condensation created by his early morning shower to reveal his reflection staring back at him.

He looked into his own steel blue eyes for a few moments before he looked down to the sink and when he lifted his head to gaze up to his reflection again, seconds later, placed his toothbrush in his mouth and started brushing slowly and methodically as he closed his eyes and let his mind wandered to the events of the night before…

Of Charles and their reunion.

Of the words that passed between them and the kiss they had shared.

He had feelings for Charles for so long.

He had wanted to kiss Charles for so long.

And after all the time that had passed and all that had happened between them, it finally felt good to act on his impulses.

Erik involuntarily smirked as he opened his eyes again and leaned forward on the sink, continuing to move his tooth brush in slow deliberate movements with his left hand as he looked down to his right forearm and the bold X tattoo above his wrist.

The X _was_ for Charles Xavier—his link to the telepath when their mental link had broken away so many years ago.

When he got the tattoo, it became the physical reminder of Charles that he needed, representing how he had gotten underneath the metal benders skin from the beginning and how he would somehow always be there with him.

Many days, Erik needed it to focus-to calm and center his mind.

It truly did help him find the point between rage and serenity.

Not always.

But, more times than not.

Erik closed his eyes again and smiled.

But, that didn't seem like the only link they shared anymore.

Since he returned to his hotel room last night, he swore he could feel Charles' familiar presence brushing the back of his mind once more.

It was something he hadn't felt in nearly a decade and to say that he had missed it would have been an understatement.

For twelve years he had practically _craved it._

When he and Charles had lived and worked together all those years ago, it seemed like it was always there—a gentle, comforting sensation in the back of his mind, putting him at ease and calming his always turbulent feelings and thoughts.

Raven and Hank once admitted to feeling it, too.

It was necessarily mind control…More like a friendly and loving gesture from Charles to let his friends know that he would always be there with them. To help and to guide them when ever they needed it.

Was it possible that Charles was there with him now?

Could he read his thoughts at that very moment?

For the first time since their bitter parting in Cuba, Erik found himself deciding that if Charles _was _in his head, he would gladly _never_ wear his helmet again.

In fact, he may just tell him so when he goes back to the mansion tonight.

It was just then that a sound broke his thoughts and Erik straightened and peeked around the bathroom door toward the source of the noise.

It was his hotel room phone and it was ringing off the hook.

Erik furrowed his brow, then turned back toward the sink and spit out the toothpaste in his mouth before setting the toothbrush on the counter and walking out to the telephone on the bedside table.

Keeping one hand on the towel wrapped around his waist, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and picked up the receiver with the other and brought it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Good Morning, Mr. Camden," a woman's voice chimed, using his alias, "This is the front desk. I have three gentlemen down here in the lobby. They say that you are expecting them."

Erik's eyes shifted to the small alarm clock next to the phone.

8:00 am—a little too early for Senator Buckley and Governor Rockefeller's aides to have arrived for their scheduled meeting…

Erik cocked his head in thought for a moment then said, "Tell them I will meet them in the café in ten minutes."

"Yes, Sir," the woman responded and Erik could hear the trained smile in her voice, then she hung up.

Erik pulled the receiver slowly from his ear, listening to the dial tone as his mind raced, still contemplating just who exactly was downstairs waiting for him.

It was only when he had finally lowered the headset back on the cradle that he realized that somewhere, deep inside, his gut was telling him to run.

# # # # # # # #

"Mr. Camden will be down shortly," the young, red-headed receptionist said after she had hung up the phone, smiling toward the three men standing on the other side of the desk in the otherwise quiet lobby, "The café just opened. You are welcome to wait for him there—"

"Fräulein…" The shortest of the three men said in a thick German accent, then scoffed as he stepped forward, coming so close to the desk that the receptionist could now see her own reflection in the black horn rimmed glasses he wore, "I don't have time to waste on formalities or waiting in Cafes. I'm sure Mr. _Camden_ wouldn't mind if we visited his room."

"I'm sorry, Sir," The receptionist said, putting on her best customer service smile, but secretly growing nervous by the second, "We only host VIP guests and hotel policy does not allow for us to give out room or telephone numbers. We may call up to the guests' room or take messages or you may have an escort take you up if invited, surely you understand—"

Suddenly, there was a shadow looming over her shoulder and the receptionist stopped in mid-sentence, casting her eyes back and realizing that one of the larger men, the two handsomer of the three that she had sworn were magazine fashion models when they walked in, who had been standing on either side of horn rimmed glasses had rounded the other side of the desk and was now standing behind her.

"Please, Fräulein …." the man in the horn rimmed glasses said, now leaning across the desk so that his blonde hair gleamed under the florescent lights and the laugh lines on his middle aged face were now visible, "It is you who must _understand_. I have been waiting a very long time to meet this man. _So_…"

It was then that the receptionist heard what she thought was gun cocking behind her and her fear was confirmed when it was pushed into her back, causing her gray eyes to widen behind her false eyelashes.

"Mr. Camden's room number and an escort to take us there," the man in the horn rimmed glasses smirked menacingly, "_If _you would be so kind."

# # # # # # # #

Erik was pretty sure that if he had clocked it, he would have found that it had only taken him about one minute and thirty seconds to dress and hastily pack his brown leather duffel bag.

Then, after cautiously opening his room door and looking quickly up and down the deserted hallway, he stepped out and closed it behind him, then raced to the end and used his powers to break the lock on the doorway to the back maintenance stairwell just as he heard the doors from the main elevator open nearby.

As he bounded down the ten flights of stairs, Erik cast a quick glance over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed.

He wasn't.

When he reached the bottom, he looked through the small glass window in the center of the door that led out to the back loading dock and, after deciding it was all clear, pushed it open and hurriedly walked out.

It was just as he was turning the corner to walk out of the mouth of the alley and onto the main street to hail a taxi cab, that Erik found his path blocked by a large figure and the metal bender was soon staring up at a tall, muscular young man with dark hair and dressed in a long gray trench coat that covered a very expensive looking suit.

Erik swiftly turned on his heel and found himself looking up at another large mammoth of a man, seemingly identical to the one on the other side of him.

It was only after a moment's thought that he realized they were twins.

The man in front of him reached swiftly into the front of his coat and pulled his gun.

In response, Erik immediately dropped his duffel onto the brick sidewalk beneath his feet and lifted his hands to use his powers to take the weapon.

But, just then, he felt a large arm wrap around his waist and another wrap itself around his neck in a choker hold from behind, distracting him from disarming the other man.

Erik gasped and struggled as he realized that the large goon's twin behind him had taken advantage of his back being turned and had grabbed him.

He then felt himself spun around and was now facing a shorter middle aged man with blonde hair and horn rimmed glasses as the second brother came forward and, reaching between Erik and his captor, quickly bound his hands tightly and uncomfortably behind his back.

Then he felt a prick on the side of his neck and his body relax.

Great.

They had drugged him.

No escape now.

At least, not with his powers.

The man then walked forward to join the man in the horn rimmed glasses and handed him Erik's duffel bag.

The blonde man smirked as he watched Erik continue to try struggle in his bodyguard's grasp, working in vein against the fast-acting muscle relaxer he had been given.

He then turned his attention to unzipping every pocket of the brown leather duffel and proceeded to rummage through it as if actively looking for something.

When he didn't find it, he let out a disappointed sigh then tossed the duffel back to the bodyguard at his side roughly before stepping forward and looking Erik up and down with a look of contempt.

As he came closer, something about him seemed familiar to the metal bender… if he could only place it.

But, something in the back of Erik's mind also told him that when he did remember, he would not like the memories it invoked.

Erik swallowed back the lump that suddenly formed in his throat and continued to work against the drug he was given, trying in vain to get free as he spat, "Who the Hell are you?"

"Sie erinnern sich nicht?" the man in the horn rimmed glasses smirked, speaking in the native tongue of Erik's youth and watched the metal benders eyes widen as he froze.

Erik's fears were suddenly confirmed.

This was going to be _bad._

When Erik didn't respond to his initial question, his counterpart sighed dramatically, placing a hand on his chest as he spoke in a thick accent, "Oh…I'm a little hurt, Mr. Lensherr because, truth be told, I remember _you._ But, then again, what has it been? Thirty years? You were just a young boy then…so understandably your memory will not be as clear as mine. But, truth be told, I have been searching for _you_ for a _very l_ong time."

Erik narrowed his eyes and the man in the horn rimmed glasses could see them visibly brewing, still trying to connect this man to any memory from his youth.

"I'll make this short and simple. I want _two _things," he spoke again, now pacing in a circle around Erik and his human prison, as he held up the first and second finger on his right hand, "_First_, I want to know where the money is."

"Was für Geld?" Erik asked, trying to act nonchalant

The man in the horn rimmed glasses chuckled as he placed his hands behind his back and rolled on the back on his heels as he stopped his circling and stood directly in front of Erik once more.

"Don't be coy with me. My brethren and I have been aware of your activities for some time...ever since your murder and torture of Biergen Smeigel in Austria fifteen years ago—a masterpiece, by the way—_truly._ Its ironic, though," The man said, stopping and tapping his lip in thought, "The Erik Lensherr I knew so many years ago would not be capable of such violence—he was always on the _receiving_ end of the violence—"

"And because of that violence, I'm not a child any more," Erik replied darkly, "I'm a monster."

"Oh..._I know_," The man in the horn rimmed glasses reaffirmed," We have been watching from the shadows as you've slaughtered your way across Europe, killing and torturing several former prominent members of the National Socialist Party and emptying their life savings accounts in the twenty five year war to avenge your family."

"Mordgeld!" Erik interjected harshly, then translated the phrase into English, "Not 'life savings'-that something you _earn_. It was _blood money_. Money earned on the backs of Jews, Gypsies and all those the precious Fuhrer deemed unworthy to bask in the glory of his reich!"

"I'm not here for a lecture or a history lesson, Mr. Lensherr. Like you, I_ lived _it. I just want the money," the man countered, his eyes narrowing, "It belonged to my colleagues and I rightfully and you stole it. And I _will_ find out where it is one way or another..."

"And what is the second thing you want?" Erik challenged, his nostrils flaring

Nazis...

He should have known his past would come calling sooner or later.

The man in the horn rimmed glasses took a deep breath and shifted his feet as he took a step back.

"I would like to know the location of Dr. Charles Xavier," he answered coolly

"_What_?" Erik blinked, surprised.

What would a former Nazi possibly want with Charles?

"Dr. Xavier," the man re-iterated, "I want to know his whereabouts. I want you to take us to him."

"Why?" Erik asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I know that you two were once friends and allies and he is currently in possession of something I want _very much_. Have you been in contact with him recently?"

"No," Erik lied

"Tisk, tisk, Mr. Lensherr," the man in the horn rimmed glasses chastised, waiving a finger as he cocked an eyebrow, "You are a _terrible_ liar just like your father. And besides, we've been tailing you. We know that you arrived last night and immediately left your hotel room, presumably to see Dr. Xavier, who we know is here somewhere in New York—„

"Have you tried a phone book?" Erik quipped with a wicked smile

He suddenly felt a large hand slap across his face for his insolence and when he opened his eyes, saw the large body guard step back to the side of the man in the horn rimmed glasses.

"Cute, Mr. Lensherr. But a phone book—nor city records will help us. We've tried that, sad to say, and somehow, after the CIA drafted him for his 'special talents' ten years ago, all records on him have simply disappeared and we have no way of locating him."

"If I knew, I would _never_ tell you where he is..." Erik breathed, his face turning serious again as he flexed his sore jaw

"Now, don't try to be the hero in the story, Mr. Lensherr," his counterpart sighed in frustration, "You will save us a lot of time and effort, and pain and suffering for yourself, if you take us to the telepath now and get him to give us what we want," then slipped easily back into German, "Wahrheit ist, seine eigene Belohnung. Ya? "

Erik suddenly jerked back as the phrase finally triggered his memory and his mind flooded with flashing images...

Images of a young blonde officer with clear spectacles and the same strong facial features, dressed in a Nazi officers uniform, entering the synagogue in their ghetto with his small band of SS soldiers when Erik was nine.

Erik remembered he had been at the synagogue that day to help Rabbi Sveldmann and when the men entered, the old rabbi motion had silently to him to stay in the worship loft where he was and hide.

It was from there that he witnessed the Nazi officers forcing the rabbi to summon a creature Erik had only heard about a handful of times in Jewish teachings—a golem.

When the golem arrived it originally attacked the officers, then stopped when the blonde man in the glasses threatened the rabbi, and with a gun held to his head, forced him to stop the golem and say the ancient incantation to make him cease and assist.

When the golem stopped, the man forced the rabbi to turn over the incantation that would allow the Nazis to have control over the golem and have it do _their _bidding instead of what the rabbi had originally created the golem for—to fight off the Nazis that came into the ghetto to take the Jews there to the work camps.

_Wahrheit ist,__seine eigene __belohnung_ the blonde officer spoke in a menacing voice before ordering the golem to kill the rabbi.

Erik could still hear the mans screams in the back of his mind as he was ripped apart by the creature in the holy temple.

"You are GHOUL..." Erik whispered finally, coming to his senses and his eyes widened in realization that the man was part of the famous Nazi occult...

_Then_ and even _now_, it seemed.

"Yes..." the man smiled a devilish smile

"_No_..." Erik said adamantly, suddenly realizing what the GHOUL could want with Charles

"Gunnar..." The man suddenly turned and signaled to the bodyguard standing next to him, "It's time we go."

"No..." Erik whimpered, struggling hard as the man tossed the duffel bag in his hands aside and now reached into his coat pocket as he stepped past the man in the horn rimmed glasses toward the metal bender.

"_NO_!" Erik screamed when the man produced the black hood that the GHOUL where famous for and immediately found himself searching his mind for Charles, secretly hoping like hell the the telepath _had_ formed a connection with him as Erik called out to him telepathically and aloud hoping it would reach him, "_Charles!_"

Then the hood was thrown over his head and everything went dark.

# # # # # #

_"Charles!"_

Charles gasped as he his eyes opened and he surged forward, sitting up in bed with a start.

His first awareness was of a loud voice ringing in his mind and in his ears.

It sounded like Erik.

But, then Charles felt a hand on his shoulder and soon realized that Hank was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, also calling his name to rouse him.

"Charles!" Hank said loudly in a commanding tone , bringing the telepath's groggy eyes to focus on him.

Charles stared at him for a few moments through hooded eyelids, then groaned and ran a hand through his hair as he fell back against the pillows again, "Wh—what is it, Hank? And why so loud and urgent?"

"Well," Hank immediately reported, "_Loud _because you were sleeping like the dead and _urgent _because..." he suddenly trailed off, reaching over to the bedside table and plucking up Charles alarm clock before hovering it over his face so that the telepath could see the time.

"Holy, shit!" Charles cried suddenly as he forced himself to sit up in bed again, throwing the sheets off of himself, "It's nearly 8:30! I'm late for class! I've got the 'Wizard of Oz' lecture and discussion with the children this morning and I—"

"Overslept?" Hank offered as he replaced the alarm clock back on the table, "Yep. _Big time_. The students are already waiting for you in your study. I just hope that there is a study left by the time you get there. There _definitely_ isn't any breakfast left..." he chuckled jokingly as he leaned forward and Charles threw his arm over the young scientist's shoulder and Hank pulled him to the side of the bed to stand.

"Ah...the joys of living with teenagers..." Charles sighed, wiping the sleep out of his eyes with a small smile as Hank lifted him and helped him into the nearby bathroom.

"Speak for yourself," Hank quipped, remembering the events that he walked in on with Erik and Charles the night before, "Making out with the man who used to be your best friend, then your alley, _then_ your nemesis and now your...well, I don't know what he is _now_."

"I say _again..._" Charles smirked, "The joys of living with teenagers."

And Hank burst out laughing as he pushed open the bathroom door with his free hand


	8. Chapter 8

Erik's smirked as he ran his the back of the fingers over his lip and studied Charles with soft eyes as the telepath leaned forward and studied the chess board between them for a moment before he made his move.

"Check…" he said as he sat back in his chair and met Erik's eyes with hint of a good natured challenge

Erik lowered his hand and made his smirk visible as he lowered his dark blue eyes to the board.

"So, how was your meeting this morning?" Charles asked, taking the tumbler of whiskey sitting on the side table into his hand and taking a drink as he eyed the metal bender.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose…" Erik said softly as he finally reached forward and chose the piece he wanted to move, "But—"

Suddenly, the power went out in Charles' study out, causing both men to sit forward in their seats as the room was instantly blanketed in semi-darkness.

"Forget to pay the electric bill, Charles?" Erik chuckled, looking around in a amusement as he twirled the bishop he had been planning to move in the fingers of his right hand.

"_No_…"Charles said, his voice trailing off for a moment and Erik could hear him bring his tumbler back to rest on the table next to the chess board and roll his wheelchair back from the table, his eyes narrowing as they suddenly focused on the closed doors to the study, "They're here."

"_What?_" Erik said, suddenly leaning forward in interest as he noted the changed in the tone of the Charles' voice, depositing the chess piece back on the board, "_Who?_ Who is here?"

Suddenly, there was a loud thud against the closed door to Charles' study, followed by a steady stream of excessive pounding.

Erik swiftly stood from his chair, turning to face the door, raising his hands.

"Your powers alone will not work on them," Charles said sternly as he rolled to the metal bender's side and reached up, placing his hand firmly on Erik's arm, "You'll need mine, too."

# # # # # # # #

Charles took in a sharp breath as he brought the drinking glass to his mouth and took a small sip of water, closing his eyes as the cool liquid hit the back of his throat, then swallowed as he placed glass up on the kitchen counter and rolled his wheelchair back around the center island just as Hank walked into the room.

"There you are…" he said in a low voice, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the professor, "Are you alright? Aurora said you looked sick when you left class—"

"I'm fine," Charles lied, waiving him off as he circled around him and moved toward the door.

But, the truth was that about halfway through his first lecture, he had started to feel dizzy, nauseous, and painfully sore along with a killer migraine.

He had valiantly soldiered on through his next two classes, but it only seemed to be getting worse.

"You don't l_ook_ fine," Hank challenged as stepped in front to block Charles' path, "Truthfully you look peaked—"

"_Please_, Hank," Xavier sighed, attempting to roll forward again, "I'm late for my last class…"

"No, you're not—_I'm_ teaching your last class and _you_ are going to roll yourself into your study and flop yourself on your favorite sofa and stay there for the rest of the afternoon—"

"Han—" Charles started

"AH!" Hank interrupted, holding up a hand to silence the professor

"But—"

"Shhh!" Hank interrupted again, his face turning stern as he now used his closed his hand in mid-air to mimic a person's mouth closing

"I—" Charles began, but soon stopped short

Hank had now leaned forward and taken hold of the sides of Charles' wheelchair and had pulled it toward him so that his eyes met the professor's face head on, waiting for Charles to challenge him again.

Charles closed his eyes tight for a moment then sighed in defeat, knowing that Hank had won.

"Well, I suppose I'll just…" he said in a sheepish tone as he started to slowly open his eyes then trailed off

"You'll just… _what?_" Hank cocked his head and waited

"I'll just roll myself to my study," he said with a small smirk, defeated

"That's right," Hank said as he straightened to his full height and stepped out of the way for Charles to roll past him and out the kitchen door.

# # # # # # # # # #

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Erik heard a noise…

Like snapping fingers…

Then, Erik slowly lifted his head, fighting hard against the dizziness and nausea caused, as he awakened and opened his eyes, the severe beating the GHOUL had given him hours before still lingering in his mind.

He could taste blood in his mouth and every bone in his body still ached, including his skull where he was certain he was now suffering from the world's worst migraine.

Taking in what he could of his surroundings, Erik immediately deduced from the darkness and cool dampness that he was below centigrade, probably in a cellar or a basement below a building or a house.

There was a small light at the opposite end of the room like a beacon—probably a doorway—but it was the _only light_.

He tried not to look to hard at it. It made his migraine angry.

The rest of the room was engulfed in pitch black darkness.

He closed his eyes to steady himself, preparing for the pain and nausea it would most likely cause, then pulled against the restraints around his wrists and his legs. He couldn't see them, but he could feel them—rope.

Crap.

He waited a moment to let the symptoms pass and then moved again, as much as his condition would allow, and felt beneath his feet—Concrete.

Crap.

Eric tilted his head slightly and tried to open up his senses to see if he could feel or detect any metal in the room that he could use.

But, nothing came to him.

_Crap_.

Just then, a noise sounded and Erik opened his eyes once more, watching the light in the distance grow bigger as a series of figures moved through it and he heard footsteps on the concrete floor as they exited the room.

Then there was a deafening noise in his ears as the door closed, engulfing the room in complete darkness as Erik hung his head, finally giving in to exhaustion and illness and passing out again.

# # # # # # # #

"Well?" the man in the horn-rimmed glasses prompted to his colleague, as the taller, older man with graying sideburns exited the room and closed the door with a glance over his shoulder.

"_Nothing,_" the man sighed, bringing his hand up to the bridge of his nose, "He is unlike anyone I've ever done a reading on—his mind is almost completely impenetrable—"

The man in the horn-rimmed glasses scoffed then placed his hands on his hips as his eyes narrowed "How is that even possible? His mutant powers are in metal manipulation, not telepathy. The job was simple, Gerhardt, you were to hypnotize him and access his memories to find clues that would lead us to Charles Xavier—"

"I am sorry, Rickard," his counterpart replied, but his voice didn't hold a hint of true apology as he pointed back through the glass door behind them at the distant figure in the darkness, "But _this_ is not going to be as simple as you think—he's _very strong_—stronger than we've anticipated. The walls that he kept throwing up at me in there are… _incredible_. I put him in six different scenarios and not _one_ broke him—he always seems to find a way to close himself off."

Rickard scoffed again and turned his back on Gerhardt as he ran his hand through his blonde hair in frustration, pacing to the wall on the other side of the hallway before turning and walking a path back to the GHOUL scientist.

"You said that Lensherr suffered a traumatic loss as a boy that triggered his powers, then spent nearly a decade enduring torture and experimentation by Schneider," Gerhardt continued, as he watched his friend move around like a caged jungle cat, "_That _could be where his mental strength comes from—that, or…"

"_Or…_what?" Rickard immediately turned back, his eyes narrowing in interest

"Or, the fact that he's not entirely _alone_ in there."

"What do you mean?" Rickard asked, intrigued, closing the distance between himself and Gerhardt

"I _mean _that his mental strength in this scenario can be taken as a sign that we are closing in on the Professor. You said that they were very close, yes? And that Lensherr recently visited him? Well, from the physical signs he gave off during the last scenario I put his mind, it's _entirely_ possible…I mean, he _did_ let his guard down more readily in that scenario than in the others we threw at him—"

"What are you rambling about?!" Rickard prompted loudly, throwing up his hands impatiently, "Speak plainly!"

"Well, essentially, I hypnotized him to envision himself at 'home'," Gerhardt explained, "He showed such hostility in the other scenarios that I thought that perhaps by putting him in a familiar environment, it would allow him to become more relaxed and therefor allow his defenses to be weaker. _But,_ I don't think when he did, he was exactly imagining his family's home in Hamburg…"

"Xavier…" Rickard smirked, the realization now showing in his eyes, "He was envisioning his life with Xavier."

Gerhardt nodded, "It makes sense. Lensherr never really had a true home—at least never one when he was growing up where he felt completely safe. You say that he was with these 'X-men' for several months—that he was close to them, perhaps that is the 'home' he has envisioned and if _that_ is the case, then I think he's drawing on a mental connection that he had with Xavier to defend it. It is not uncommon for telepaths to form telepathic connections to people whom they have a deep, abiding affection for—family…_friends_…" then he turned and pointed again to the door, "So, I think it's a safe theory that it is perhaps _Charles Xavier_, who is throwing up the blockades. Erik is using_ him_ in his weakened state to prevent us from getting what we need."

Rickard took in a deep breath as he narrowed his eyes in thought then pushed his horn-rimmed glasses higher up on his nose.

"Can you place him in a different scenario?" he asked

"No. After what he has been through physically before you even brought him to me, this is the least stressful scenario to place him in to get what we want. If we try another scenario-one harsher or more torturous- the strain could kill him."

Rickard closed his eyes and screwed his face in decision, then nodded to himself as he turned on his heel and opened his eyes again, just in time to bark orders to one of the twins standing close by.

"Deiter, tell Dr. Velheim to bring me prisoner number 90015 _immediately_…" then, after a moment's thought added pointedly, "And to blindfold her. We don't want her emotionally compromised."

Deiter nodded solemnly, then turned on his heel and marched down the long hallway.

"What could you possibly want with _her_?" Gerhardt asked, stunned as Rickard turned back to face him once more, "She's a mutant…she's _dangerous_…."

"And s_he _is the only weakness the two men in that room share." Rickard replied with a smile

# # # # # # #

"Telepathic communication consists of two directions—sending and receiving," Hank lectured, walking through the desks in the small classroom, watching over the students as they took notes, "It depends on _intention_. Whether you have the intent to sense what the other person is thinking and feeling, or for the other person to pick up certain thoughts and feelings you are sending. It will be harder for others to sense your thoughts if you want to hide yourself from them. You psychically put up a shield to prevent them from seeing your intentions."

Soon, he found himself back at the teacher's desk at the head of the classroom and leaned back, taking a seat on the front as he faced Professor Xavier's 3:30 _Telepathy_ students.

"Can anyone tell me one example of a form of telepathy that is _not_ intended?"

"Empathetic Telepathy," a teenage girl with blonde ringlets and flared jeans spoke up from the back of room

"Very good, Elena!" Hank commended, pointing her way, "It's important to remember that when two people are spiritually close, when they trust each other and they have mutual empathy, they form a telepathic bond without even realizing it. Many of you have probably un-intentionally formed telepathic bonds with your parents, your best friend…_even_ those fellow students you have unhealthy crushes on…"

Hank winked and the class laughed.

"And why is that?" he continued, when the laughter subsided, "Because of feelings you have formed with them—feelings that you let your heart decide on, not your head. _Empathy,_ Professor Xavier always stresses, is one of the _key ingredients_ of telepathy."

Hank paused to glance down to his watch then clapped his hands together.

"Alright! Enough torture at my hands. Professor Xavier will be back on Monday and he expects an essay on the three unintentional forms of telepathy on his desk..._Neatly typed_, not hastily scribbled during breakfast…"

He eyes the students knowingly and they smiled as they began to pack away their books and notes.

"Okay. With that threat in your mind…You're free to fly pigeons!" He said, dismissing them and watched as they got up from their seats and filed out the door in a flutter of chatter.

# # # # # # #

"_Charles…" _

Charles winced, his eyes fluttering as he turned over on the sofa in his study and grunted in pain as the nausea he was feeling washed over him again.

He was just now beginning to realize, after hours of suffering, that this wasn't just symptoms from medicinal withdrawal.

But, it didn't exactly feel like the flu, either…

This was something else.

And why was he hearing Erik's voice? Like a record player playing over and over in his head.

"_Charles..."_ it called again and Charles groaned, putting his hand to his sweating, clammy forehead as another wave from the migraine seemed to split his skull.

"Erik…_" _Charles suddenly gasped as he opened his eyes and found himself lying on the sofa, curled on his side, but now facing the chess board on the table in the center of the room.

# # # # #

"Erik…"Charles said as he wheeled himself in front of the metal bender, "You have to listen to me—"

"Who is out there, Charles? What do they want?" Erik interjected, looking from the closed study door, then down to the telepath in the chair in front of him.

"They are gone for now, but they'll be back. Erik, you _know_ who they are and what they want…" Charles began, then motioned around the room, "This is all a vision—what _they_ want you to see. The only part of this room that is not their creation is_ me._"

"_No…_" Erik breathed, suddenly remembering his encounter with the GHOUL earlier that morning, then taking in his surroundings, immediately beginning to make the connection that Charles was right. It wasn't real. It had all been a beautiful dream.

"Why?" Erik asked, his face full of emotion and disbelief

"They want to control you, Erik. They want to break you so that they can control your powers and they want to use you to find me…to find my children," Charles continued, then reached out and took Erik's hand, bringing the metal bender's attention back to him as he gently pulled, summoning him to kneel down before him, which he did, "Now, I can hold them off as long as our connection holds, but like I told you in Washington D.C. last year, what happens after the connection breaks—after they eventually find a way through that door—is _entirely_ in your hands."

"What if I'm not strong enough—what if I—" Erik started, his mind reeling

"I _trust you_, Erik," Charles suddenly interjected, his eyes meeting the metal benders in an intense gaze, "I have faith in you—in your abilities, in your judgment. But, most importantly, I have hope –hope in your redemption—that one day you truly will take to heart that you are _so much more_ than you know—more than that monster you make yourself out to be. That you'll believe what I say—that you'll believe in _yourself_. Reach deep inside to find your strength…." Charles said, pointing down to Erik's chest near his heart, "You'll find that it's been with you the whole time..." Then the telepath gave a small smile, "Like me."

Suddenly, the moment was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Erik immediately stood when a voice sounded on the other side and Charles closed his eyes to steel himself.

"Erik…Charles…" it said in a soft female tone that both men instantly recognized, "Its, Raven. Can I come in?"


End file.
